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2013.07.23 - Just Pawns
Approximately two hours ago, a small team of X-Men arrived at the D&P Import Export Inc. warehouse in East Brooklyn. What was once the headquarters of an infamous drug trafficker was now home to a top secret X-Men outpost in the city. The company it was tied to? Quite cleverly faked. Shift had sent the report over the X-Net, via an encrypted laptop computer set up in the warehouse. Two accomplices of subject 'Inhibitor Prime' had been apprehended in Mutant Town, and were going to be held there for questioning. Security support was requested after Cypher departed for the Institute. The warehouse itself is sparsely populated. There are a number of crates set up here and there, and the type of gear kept here is designed to not raise any eyebrows in the unfortunate case of a police raid or city inspection. Closed storage units here and there contain field supples, such as food, bottled water, spare smart phones, and a small handful of weapons and ammunition that are kept under lock and key. As for the subjects, they have been snoozing lightly for the past two hours, thanks to a sedative administered by Kwabena. The Ghanaian stands watch over them with a sidearm strapped to his waist and a burning cigarette in his hand. He has remained silent for the time being, awaiting what backup may come and giving Rachel time to recover. His X-Men uniform has been concealed by some spare clothing he keeps here, a pair of pressed brown pants and a light tan button up shirt. For all intents and purposes, he could easily be mistaken as a mid-level organized crime leader, under the guise of a businessman. When it comes to 'security support' very few people can measure up to Wolverine. But there is one person who can, to an extent. Despite the fact that they're technically a /trainee/ with the Young X-Men rather than a member of the X-Men proper. Yes, that's right, Laura Kinney a.k.a. X-23 arrives due to that call for 'security support'. And as the teen steps out of the shadows not too far from Kwa, making it hard to tell just when and how she arrived, it is revealed that she's in her old 'Weapon X' jumpsuit as well. Only for some reason she has a pair of blue jeans draped over her shoulder. "Someone called for pants?" is also said in a cold, detached, and emotionless voice as the young 'clone' just glances at the X-Men who may already be here. Rachel made good use of the two hour time lapse - she's been asleep. First on the van ride to the warehouse, then waking up just long enough to get inside and find somewhere passably comfortable to crash out again. She's used to grabbing sleep where and when she can, so she was quickly out like a light. Two hours' sleep have done a lot to revitalise the redhead, and when she wakes up her eyes are clear and alert, she's not showing any lingering effects of being tased, and she's feeling pretty determined to find out exactly what's going on and exactly what she can do about the person who caused it. She's not as subtle in her entrance as X-23, simply walking out of the back areas to join the others. "That would be me." She confirms to Laura and takes the offered jeans. "Thanks." Why she needs them is obvious. She might look uninjured, but she also looks like she's been rolling in the dirt. Added to which, a denim miniskirt and almost-shredded tights is not proper attire for conducting an interrogation. "Give me a minute." She quickly says to Kwabena. It is only about a minute before Rachel's back, still tightening the belt of the jeans as she rejoins them. "All right." She says, folding her arms and looking between the two subjects. "How do you want to start?" Kwabena suppresses a sigh of relief when Laura emerges from the shadows. Of all the X-Men to show, young or not, she was one who would keep quiet about what might take place here. She also wouldn't judge him. Rachel, on the other hand? He certainly doesn't know her nearly well enough. The cigarette is tossed to the ground and stomped out with the toe if his shoe following a brief moment of consideration. His eyes leave Rachel and dart back and forth between both subjects. One is Frank Smith, an older black gentleman. To Frank he points and says, "Vietnam Vet." Decidedly he turns to the other, an Asian fellow wearing a studded denim vest and slightly ripped jeans. "Him." Both subjects have been tied to tall support posts, not too far from each other. The bounds consist of zip ties around the wrists and ankles, their bodies secured with something that resembles seatbelt material. Intentionally low budget. Kwabena eyes Laura pointedly for a moment, before crouching down before the Asian. He produces a small capsule and holds it beneath the man's nose, but hesitates. "I can't guarantee dis will be pretty." He turns and glances Rachel's way, only to judge her reaction. And as Rachel heads off, Laura gives Kwa a momentary odd look. One that lasts the briefest of instants before the teenaged 'clone' shakes her head. In fact, by the time the Summers girl comes back, it's almost like Laura hadn't even made any sort of gesture. not as she gives the 'guests' the team has her full attention. And yet Shift is right. Laura won't judge. Not even in regards to these guys. In fact, as he moves to wake the Asian, the teenager just crosses her hands and silently watches, ready just in case... Rachel is aware of Kwabena's eyes upon her - with only the three of them conscious in the room, she can feel the light pressure of his attention against her mental shields without even trying. At least it tells her that her powers are still working, which is welcome. The idea that she's being measured, less so. She makes a point of not looking at him while he does it, keeping her attention on the two prisoners. She nods silently when Kwabena gives his appreciation of Smith, filing the information away, then tracks him with her eyes as he moves to the Asian man instead. Her back straightens when he gives his warning, the fingers of her right hand tightening on the opposite arm where she holds her arms folded, but it's not nervousness or squeamishness that draws the reaction. "If you thought I'd have a problem with that you should have sent me back too." Her words are delivered levelly, but not in an unfriendly tone. Kwabena's hardly seen her at her best thus far, after all. Rachel shifts her weight to one hip. "As long as it's worthwhile. Remember, I can look inside his head /without/ taking off the top of his skull." There is a beat before the edge of Kwabena's mouth curls just so, forming a very small grin. "Yeah. I expect you to do just dat." His fingers snap, crushing the capsule and filling the Asian's nose with an incredibly strong odor and stimulant. There are a few moments where the prisoner's eyes drift about beneath closed, then partly opened eyelids. Then, out of nowhere, the man draws his feet backward and struggles for a moment, before realizing that he's not going anywhere. His awareness comes back in full, and he glowers at Kwabena for a moment, before giving the same look toward Rachel and Laura. "What the hell is this?" he demands. "Who are you, the cops?" Having backed away just so, Kwabena huffs out a single laugh, then turns and eyes Rachel and Laura for effect. "Cops!" he exclaims, before letting out a bit of entirely faked, yet thoroughly convincing laughter. Between laughter, he blurts out, "Oh, shit. Girls, did we forget our badges at home?" As Laura raises her left hand, she looks directly at Rachel, before she makes a fist as her gaze slowly drifts towards the person that Kwa is questioning. *SNIKT* Yes, the claws come out as that's said, and they;'re plainly visible from her left hand for a moment or two, before she responds to what was said in her usual detached way that is devoid of emotion. "Sometimes removing the top of the skull is useful." And then her claws up and retract. For now anyways. "No. We did not." is said in the same detached deadpan to Shift, as Laura lets her eyes lock on the 'prisoners' eyes. "But if he is lucky, and talks, there may be enough left to take to the cops afterward." Rachel doesn't jump when the claws come out. Comes of having her version of Wolverine as an uncle, growing up. Laura's gaze is returned, with a small grin and a slight nod. As intimidation tactics go, it's always a good one. "Messy, though." She remarks lightly. "And cleaning up all the blood can get /so/ boring." She adds in the same conversational tone. Returning her attention to the Asian man, Rachel schools her expression into a half-apologetic and pitying look as she slowly shakes her head. The faux sympathy is spoiled by the smile that keeps tugging at the edge of her mouth. "You're assuming he's smart enough to talk before he loses something he wants to keep." Rachel says, almost boredly, as if it doesn't really matter to her what choice the man makes. Behind her eyes, though, her mutant gift is already at work. Reaching out to touch the man's mind, just lightly. Not to do anything, not yet, just to gauge his mental state. "You guys," the Asian starts, before his demeanor changes. No longer feeling aggression pouring through him, he starts to encounter a very tangible amount of fear. It's visible in his body language, audible in the tone of his voice, and quite clear to the unblocked telepathic abilities of Rachel. "You guys," he repeats. "You can't do this. I have rights." The Asian's mental state is in duress, for his genetic mutation causes an obscene amount of hyperfocus. So much so that he can barely operate in every day life. What remains visible to Rachel only, manifests in the way his eyes dart about, judging Kwabena's pants, Laura's hands, a toolbox nearby, the crates, and their numbers, then the laptop, and so forth and so forth. "Oh," quips Kwabena. "Dat's got to be tough." He steps forward and crouches down again, drawing the Asian's attention. "That hyper-focus of yours. I guess, without your 'friend' around, it's a bit difficult to operate, right? Especially when we've got you all tied up like dis?" The Asian's head turns toward Frank Smith, who still snoozes. It gets promptly yanked back by Kwabena's hand. "You don't have any rights here," he snarls. "Now, Rose and I," he tips his head toward Rachel, "are going to ask some few questions. You're going to answah honestly. If you don't?" He shoves the Asian's head back a bit, then motions over toward Laura. "Bad cop gets to have her fun. Undahstand?" The Asian is thoroughly terrified. It doesn't help that his mutation has him completely off kilter. He's terrified of spending the rest of his life suffering under it, and Isaac, the Inhibitor, had freed him from it. He's clearly no hardened thug, and looks as if he's about to break down. "Okay, okay," he breaths. "Anything you want to know, anything!" For a moment.... /MAYBE/ the briefest of instants, it's as if there's a /slight/ flicker of some form of emotion on Lauras face at Rachels actions and statements. The emotion may possibly even be amusement. But it's so brief that it's impossible to tell if it actually happened. All though as she's referred to as 'Bad Cop', the teenaged clone closes her right hand into a fist, and there's another *SNIKT!* as her claws extend for a moment or two before retracting. Thus even as the Asian says he'll spill everything, the teenager mutters, "Which part do you think he wants to keep the most? His eyes? His face? His kidneys? Or something.... Lower?" Rachel's reaction is subtle when the man mentions his rights. She snorts, quietly, an almost delicate sound of smothered laughter. It's her counterpoint to Kwabena's more in-your-face approach. She might be on the 'good cop' side of the fence, but she's not showing any disquiet over Kwabena's actions. As the man caves in, Rachel's got her head tilted to one side, looking at him appraisingly as Laura runs down her list of options. She purses her lips a bit at a couple of them, as if they're getting extra consideration. When the man's resistance crumbles she affects a look of mild disappointment. "Hold that thought." She tells Laura, putting a hint of apology in her voice. Rachel takes a short step closer, just to focus the man's eyes on her. "You must be smarter than I thought." She tells him, almost pleasantly, before her eyes harden. "Let's start with something easy. Like your name." She draws on her telepathic powers as she speaks, narrowing her focus, brushing aside the man's terror and concentrating on whether he believes the answers he gives. Rachel gives no sign of whether she believes the first answer she gets before moving on to the next. "And where you first met your friend." And the next, "And where we can find him now." The poor guy, with his X-Gene mutation in full swing, he just can't choose whether to focus upon Rachel, Laura, or Kwabena. He's about to voice another complaint when Rachel moves to intervene, and finds enough mental stability to focus on her for a few moments. "Kim," he answers, "Stephen Kim." Truth. "I met him... I met Isaac at the e-cafe, what's it called..." He panics for a moment, before widening his eyes. "Roxx! Roxx Electrocafe, over in Greenwich! I go there sometimes, play games, helps me focus when I just can't." Again, truth. He did, in fact, meet Isaac at the Roxx Electrocafe, but there is more to the story he's not telling. "I don't know where to find him," he exclaims suddenly, filled with terror. His eyes look away from Rachel and study Laura and Kwabena in turn, while he cowers against his restraints. "Oh, God! Please, I'm telling you! He found me there last night, rented me a room at the Jazz on the Park in midtown, then told me to meet him in Mutant Town! Today! I swear!" Kwabena dramatically rolls his eyes and glances over toward Laura. However, he has had experience with telepaths before, and instead turns back toward Rachel. He looks directly at her, with all but one question on his mind. Is Stephen Kim telling the truth, or is he lying? He won't ask, but he also doesn't know if Rachel will be able to sense the question in him. All telepaths were different, after all. And as the questions are asked, and answered, Laura just sniffs the air occasionally, while looking right at the guy being questioned. It's almost as if she's doing her own 'subtle' test regarding the guy... Regarding Mr. Kim and the truthfulness of his answers. And yet as she's told to 'hold on' and getting that eyeroll from Shift, the teenaged clone pauses. Sure her gaze doesn't shift, but she slowly starts to frown. That is before... She balls her hands into fists, but otherwise doesn't do anything. It's almost as if for a moment she's /maybe/ letting up on the guy...? You paged Rachel Summers with ‘Oh,that. Yeah, he's withholding something about what happened at the Electrocafe.’ Terror has made the man's mind an open book to Rachel. She doesn't need to get invasive, at least not yet. His mind's given him away before he even opens his mouth to answer all of her questions. When he's given his three answers, Rachel remains looking at him, fingers interlaced as she taps her steepled index fingers against her lips. Lips that are set in a slight frown. "I want you to think very, very carefully." She tells him in a serious tone. "Whether you've left anything out that you feel we might want to know." She lets that hang in the air for a moment before adding, offhand, "I'd hate to have to ask again." Rachel doesn't meet Kwabena's gaze again, even though she can once again feel his eyes upon her. His eyes, and an insistent, questioning push from his mind. << Stop thinking so loudly at me. >> She slides into his mind, her mental 'voice' holding the amusement that's so absent from her expression. << I can hear you just fine. >> She pauses only for a moment before getting down to business. << He's telling the truth, as far as it goes. He's leaving something out, though. About meeting our guy at the cafe. I can dig, but I think he only needs a push. >> All this time, she's remained looking at Kim, fingers still now where they touch her lips, waiting. Poker face. Kwabena's doesn't budge, leaving the humor to his mind and keeping it from his face. Seems he registered Rachel's message loud and clear. "Wh..." Stephen looks away from Rachel, briefly letting his wandering eyes glance from Laura to Kwabena, then around the room for a moment, before he gets hold of his mutation and focuses again upon Rachel. "What do you mean," he asks her, pointedly. "What kind of information do you-" "What did he say to you," interrupts Kwabena, his tone of voice quite threatening, "at the Electrocafe?" He doesn't, however, make any threatening moves. One hand slips behind his back, only to make a stalling gesture toward Laura. This one they may not want to push too hard... "He told me he could help me!" he blurts out. "And he did! He did! He took it away, this..." He stumbles over his words for a moment. "Th-this curse of mine! He took it away, and for once, I could actually focus like, like a normal man!" "What else!" shouts Kwabena. "He told me to meet him, he told me to protect him! H-he told me that if I did, if I protected him, I-I-I wouldn't ever have to s-suffer again!" He's telling the truth, and it seems that he's exhausted himself of it. Meanwhile, Frank Smith begins to stir, groggily waking from his slumber. A few unintelligible words are uttered under his breath. And at the words 'Ask again' there's a *SNIKT!* as Lauras claws extend from her left hand. Before they retract. Before there's a *SNIKT!* as they extend from her right hand. Before they retract. And /THEN/ she hears what Kim says to Kwa, which prompts the teenaged 'clone' to tilt her head at the Asian. For a moment or two anyways before her gaze drifts over towards Frank... Rachel has to give it to Laura. Going from the sound of her claws popping, she's got subtle menace down to a science, and her timing is impeccable. As Kim focuses on her, tries to ask /her/ a question, Rachel simply shakes her head silently to make him aware of his mistake. Keeping silent and still, not wanting to provide a distraction, allowing the man's hyper-focus to stay on Kwabena where it can serve them best, Rachel keeps up her watch on his thoughts, feeling the last reticence and hesitation swept away as he blurts out everything - really everything - that he knows, this time. When the last drop of the truth is wrung from him and he sags in exhaustion, Rachel makes a sharp move. Her right hand comes up, and she snaps her fingers. It's like a gunshot, switching his focus back to her. And with a narrowing of her eyes, she pushes his mind all the way back under. "That's all he knows." She tells the others swiftly, her voice soft now that Smith is stirring. Her eyes move to Kwabena, ready to follow his lead once more. A soft look of surprise comes when Rachel demonstrates just how powerful her telepathic abilities are. He reaches over to check Stephen's pulse, then gives her an approving look. There's no time for verbal support, for Frank is coming to even quicker now that the sedative is wearing off. He looks around and grunts, but this is something he's used to. "Frank." Kwabena's attention is firmly diverted. "I hate to keep a vet tied up like dis. Rose and Lethal Lucy here? Dey'll put you in your place, and I'd hate to use a gun on a war vet, but I hate to keep a man like you tied up. You promise to play nicely?" "Who the hell do you-" Kwabena grabs Frank by the mouth, forcing his jaw shut. "Frank." He looks the man plainly in the eye. "Please play nicely." Once Frank's mouth is released, he grunts again. "Son, I done spent three years in a V.C. prison camp. Ain't a chance in hell you got bigger black balls than me." Kwabena quietly retrieves his pistol and places it against Frank's cheek. "I spent some few years dealing dope on de streets," he explains, calmly. "Let me tell you dis, Frank. Life in de guttah? You spend half a year wondering which muthah fucker is going to blow your balls off, and you'll pray for dat V.C. camp." Withdrawing, Kwabena points his gun right at Frank's shoe. Then, he looks over at Laura, and makes a very firm demand of her. "Lucy, cut de vet loose and see if he wants to play." While he waits expectantly for Laura to do as he says, there's a secret loathing in his soul, something Rachel might pick up on. He hates' to work this way, but he recognized that language, and is taking a gamble that if they do this right, they'll have Frank on their side in no time. "Little girl," shouts Frank, angrily, "you step one inch closer to me and I'll send you home to your mama cryin'!!" And as Lauras claws fully retract yet again, she doesn't pop them right back out. Not as Rachel confirms that all that Mr. Kim knew has been said. All though she does offer the redhead a bit off an odd look as that's said. Almost like she is silently saying something. Something that she refuses to even think regarding how this interrogation is going. /ESPECIALLY/ when Kwa tells her to cut Frank loose. And yet as that threat is made, the young 'clone' can't help but step closer to the restrained Vet, stopping just a foot or two away. There's no sign of fear from her. not even as he makes that threat. Instead, and still devoid of emotion, she raises her right fist, before... *SNIKT!* She pops her claws right in front of his face. Said claw is slowly lowered towards him, as if to gently be traced along his clothes and skin, as it to help prove that yes, they are real, and metal, and sharp. And while not meant to do much more than be felt, if the Vet struggles or moves wrong he may end up with anything from a rip in his clothes from the sharp claws, to a lot worse to his skin and body depending on how he moves. At least that's until with a single, sudden, and rapid motion, the claw cuts through his restraints. To say that they are but through 'like a hot knife through butter' wouldn't even be doing justice to how easily the adamantium cuts through them either. Then, depending on what Frank does, if he gives the teenager half a chance, Laura will step back and glance at Kwa, so she can say, "All yours." Of course if Frank tries something though, she probably won't have a chance to do that. The edges of Rachel's lips twitch upward in a quickly-suppressed, but still impish smile as she catches Kwabena's surprise. Ask her to do that again in the middle of a crowd and she might not be able to make it look so slick, but she's going to take it as a compliment anyway. The smile is gone from her features as Smith comes around, Rachel's gaze moving smoothly over to watch him as she waits for her cue. She feels a flicker of surprise when Kwabena chooses a much different tack for dealing with this man, but she keeps it off her face. He's running this show, he's been right so far... and she might still be feeling a little personal antipathy for the man who tased her. At least she recognises that. The downside of the quiet mental landscape, that allowed Rachel so much freedom to act a moment ago? She can't help but pick up on the strong undercurrent of emotion from Kwabena. Suppressing the urge to glance in his direction, she keeps her eyes on Smith, particularly since Laura is moving in. She doesn't have any illusions that Laura can more than take care of herself, particularly against Smith, but Rachel's still ready to put him through the nearest wall if he tries something stupid. Looks like Frank Smith has a lot of bark, but very little bite. Laura's claws do exactly as she'd intended. The man freezes in his place, not going so far as to move a muscle. There is only the rising and falling of his chest, which comes with a slightly increased pace, thanks to his nerves and the onsetting of his own mutation. Frank's mutation was an ugly one. His body, given the absence of alcohol, is slowly being gripped by a pain that will eventually grow intolerable. If he doesn't get his 'fix', the visions will soon come, and he'll be driven to insanity. It's a cold hard fact that Rachel had picked up on during her probing of the veteran's mind earlier, and one Shift was well aware of courtesy of Rachel's telepathic link. When Frank's bonds are cut, he stays frozen for a few moments further, with eyes that look upon Laura's claws with a very cold fear and, most importantly, respect. After those few tense moments, he rubs his wrist and makes to stand up, though he does so with great effort as the pain grips him. "I... don't suppose any of you-" Kwabena produces a flask from somewhere on his person. "Yes. We are well aware of your mutation and what it does to you." He offers the flask to Frank, saying, "Dis will help with de pain. I hope dere is enough to keep de nightmares at bay." Frank takes the flask and drinks its venom hungrily. "Who we are doesn't mattah," elicits Kwabena with a level tone of voice. "We know you are 'friends' with Isaac. I want you to tell Rose everything you know about him. And when I say everything, I mean ''everything." He takes a step back and alongside Laura, and though the pistol is still held in his hand, he crosses his arms and points it somewhere harmless while his eyes remain riveted upon Frank. And then Lauras claws retract. She doesn't look at Kwa. Or at Rachel. Instead her gaze just drifts to the Vet as she waits to hear what he has to say regarding Shifts statement, and what the telepathic redhead says and does because of what's said. All though after her little display, it should be apparent that she's more than ready to step in if need be... Rachel takes a step forward and places herself squarely in front of Smith. Not too close, not because she's afraid of anything he might conceivably do, but because of the delay dealing with it would cause. This is the first part of Kwabena's plan that she has any real reservations about. After all, the man tased her and watched her flop about on the ground like a landed fish. Of the three of them, she's got to be the last choice to put the frighteners on him. So Rachel doesn't threaten, or cajole. She just looks right at him and speaks directly to him. "Like the man said. We know about you, and what we want is very simple. Start at the beginning. How you met him. What you did for him, and what he promised you. And what you were supposed to do for him /next/." As before, Rachel's reaching out with her mind to touch the man's thoughts, though this time she's not just watching for truth or falsehood. She's watching him for any flicker he's going to make a move on her, and she's ready to show him that he has no idea what he's dealing with, if he does. The consumption of alcohol begins to stave off the negative effects of Frank's mutation, and it shows. He seems a bit less tense, and when Rachel approaches, he even goes so far as to smirk. However, he's quickly reminded of Laura's claws, of the gun that was in his face, of the fact that, in his mind, Kwabena must be some strung out junkie ready to start shooting at a moment's notice. He looks at Rachel sternly for a moment, then passes a look from Laura to Kwabena. However, it's when his eyes land back on Laura that his visage seems to change. Those claws meant business. He felt a bit of pain from where one of them had grazed his skin, leaving a thin line in his shirt and a few droplets of blood. It stung like a paper cut, only somehow worse. Swallowing, Frank looks back at Rachel. "Came to me in a bar." He scoffs. "I'm always at some goddamn bar, anyway. Said he could take away my pain. Did take away my pain. Asked me to come with him, gave me that TASER." A glimmer of mirth passes through his eyes as he recalls Rachel twitching on the ground, but it's short lived. Claws. Gun. Weird silent girl. Junkie. "He called himself my brother," he answers. "Said if I stuck by his side, he'd take care of me. And god damnit, he did." He leans forward, closer to Rachel, and though there is hostility in his soul, there's no suggestion that he's about to strike or assault her, at least not physically. "You fools come along, and you took him away from me!" he growls. The flask is lifted up, some of its brown contents sloshing over his hand. "Now, all I've got is this again. You know how pathetic this is?" He flings his hand, and the flask goes flying across the room, only to clatter and spill its contents upon the warehouse floor. "No, you don't, because your pretty little face doesn't have to deal with it!" Frank takes a step back, as if he didn't want to be anywhere close to Rachel. His hands are balled up into fists, but there's no sign of imminent attack. "You guys act like some kind of gestapo. What do you think is going on here?" He flings a hand out in some random direction, pointing a wrinkled finger. "Isaac is a good man. He helps people. Like me, like Stephen! It was you kids who brought the hit on us, we were just... watching! Looking for other people who needed help!" He glowers at the three of them, but then finally rests upon Rachel. "What was I gonna do next? I was- we was gonna find some people who needed help, and help 'em. Like that kid with the horns on his face. Not everyone gets to sprout wings and fly up into the sky like a goddamn angel!" And yes, Laura is still silent. Still looking directly at Frank as he says all of that. She doesn't blink at the fact that supposedly the person that is being asked about supposedly is 'helping' other. Nor does she blink at the gestapo crap. Instead, she just stands there. And waits. Especially for what Rachel says regarding the 'truth' and how Shift reacts to that. Rachel's trying to play her part professional, but when the smirk appears on Smith's face? Her eyes flash with anger and she has to stamp down on her temper. Hard. At least the other two have his respect, and she has a job to do, so the fire passes from her eyes and she just quirks a brow to show that she's waiting. The taser. Mention of that causes Rachel's eyes to narrow, because she doesn't have to /guess/ what he's thinking. Just for a moment, she sees herself through his eyes, on the ground, helpless. She doesn't like what she sees. Her eyes narrow further as he leans towards her, but she doesn't give up an inch of ground to him. As the man rants, and the flask goes flying, Rachel wants nothing more than to tell him what she thinks of his display, but forces herself to keep silent. She's still locked in on his thoughts, he's telling them the truth as he sees it, and she doesn't want to cut him off. At least until he's dry of anything useful. Rachel lets out a carefully controlled breath and moves for the first time since Smith started speaking. << All true. >> She passes across to Kwabena. She really should leave it at that, too. But she can't. She stretches out her hand and the flask, and the remains of its contents, rise from the ground and are deftly caught. "Yes. I know how pathetic this is. But you didn't help me, and you didn't give me any choice." She pushes the flask into his hands. "Where were you going next? To find these people you were going to help?" Of all things, a tear forms in Frank's eye. It happens when the flask is brought back to him. He realizes then that Rachel and Laura must be like him... and though Kwabena hasn't shown any sign of having special talents, one must assume. He curls his hands around the flask, eyeing it with a mixture of reproach and need. "Yes," he answers, this time much more softly and without the hostility. "To find more people who need help," he clarifies. He bites back his grief and looks back at Rachel, showing more open transparency than he thought he could. "I don't know where he's going... that's why he told us to stick with him." He shakes his head, and grips the flask tightly as the pain starts to set in on him again. The pain he can't avoid. "I'm... sorry I tased you," he offers, before tilting the flask back and drinking. Kwabena looks over at Laura with a frown. There is disappointment in his eyes, and frustration on his face. Holstering the pistol, he approaches Rachel's side. "He didn't say anything else?" he presses Frank. "Nothing about his motives? About who he is, where he's going?" "I'm sorry," answers Frank, looking over at Kwabena. "I..." Frank cuts himself off, and studies Kwabena for a moment. "He's got your accent." Kwabena studies Frank for a moment, then steps away. The frown deepens, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. Confused, not sure what to think. A coldness begins to crawl over him. As the questioning con tinues, and even Rachel asks hers, Laura is still standing there. And yet, at the mention of Frank's friend being out to 'help' other mutants... The 'clone' lets out a faint growl, before there's a *SNIKT* Thus after Kwa is told the bit about the accent being the same, the clawed girl steps forward, and levels her right claw at Frank. "He is not just helping. We could tell you about other things he has done. Things that you may not know about. But he is /ALSO/ hurting people, whether he knows it or not, whether he wants to or not. Some peoples powers /keep them alive/. And as your.... Friend shuts down some peoples powers, he is also shutting down other peoples powers, including those people who need them to live." Slowly she steps back, her claw retracting. "You may want to think about /THAT/." Rachel is caught, frozen when she sees the tear in Frank's eye. That has to be the absolute last thing she was expecting. And, she thinks wryly after a moment's shock, proof that Kwabena really /does/ know what he's doing. The apology, given how she /knows/ he felt while he was doing it, is also unexpected, and Rachel's not prepared to absolve him just yet. Besides, Laura's making her own point, just as cuttingly as if she was using those claws of hers to make it for her. Rachel's eyes flicker across to her and she nods in acknowledgement of the point that's been made. Rachel looks across at Kwabena as he moves up beside her, feeling his frustration. She shakes her head just slightly even as he's asking his questions, since she already knows the answers, but she can't fault him for asking them anyway. She doesn't like the idea of this guy playing with mutants' powers for his own amusement, and she's far from convinced about the purity of his motives... even if these two seem more like dupes than co-conspirators. With Kwabena so close, it's impossible for Rachel /not/ to feel Kwabena's reaction to Smith's seemingly innocent comment. She chooses her words carefully as she drops them into his brain. << Whatever he's got you thinking about, I doubt you want him as your audience. What do with do with them?" >> Laura's words cut deep. It's odd how Frank is somewhat more lucid after some alcohol is in him, but there was a narrow field of clarity between the torment of his mutated genome and the confusion of drunkenness, and that's where he is at the moment she speaks up. Frank has no words, but he does have something to think about. Rachel's words shake Kwabena from his shock. His response in turn comes as a thought only. He wants them to sleep; he wants Frank to sleep the way Stephen sleeps. "Keep de flask," he offers to Frank. It's the best farewell he can offer. Laura has said her piece. And since Shift and Rachel haven't added anything else, the clone just goes silent. All though eventually she does glance at Kwa and quirks an eyebrow, before her gaze flickers to Rachel for a moment or two. Yeah, she offers no farewell to either Mr. Kim or Frank. Kwabena might not answer Rachel with words, but she nods in answer to his unspoken request. Taking a step toward Smith, she presses on his mind telepathically, taking advantage of the alcohol already working on his system to damp down any hostility or fight response to her approach. "You should sit down while you drink that." She says in a reasonable tone of voice, and nudges him again. As his legs fold beneath him, Rachel controls his fall with her telekinesis. There's still a small part of her that'd like to let him thump to the ground, but she's not giving in to that spiteful impulse. And once he's sitting down, and has taken another big swig - Rachel turns the lights out. And once again her telekinesis rescues the flask, this time before it can hit the ground. She lowers it neatly to the floor, but she's not quite done yet. Not until she's made sure that the two unconscious men's memories are appropriately fuzzy. That done, she crosses back to the others, pausing by Laura. She wants to say something, about what the younger woman said, about how right her words were, but Rachel can't find any of her own. So she just nods to her, again, and glances quickly to Kwabena. "Time to go?" She asks. For the time, Kwabena simply watches Rachel at work. Once the two are out cold, he lets out a quiet sigh. "Pawns. Dey were manipulated." There is a touch of anger in his tone, for they had all come into this thinking that Frank Smith and Stephen Kim were just as guilty as Isaac. They were proven wrong. Remorse is quickly cast away, for Kwabena was used to these kinds of affairs. He nods his head to affirm Rachel's words, then crosses the room then, rummages through a cabinet, and produces two tiny devices. Sub-dermal injectors. "Subcutaneous tracking devices," he offers, and administers one into each of the men's fingers, just beneath the fingernail. "I'll keep dem sedated. Drop dem off at a hostel aftah midnight." He shares a look with both of them, neither requesting that they stay or releasing them. He's got a lot to think about, and he's probably not the only one. Category:Log